While we're together
by livingforfiction
Summary: Donna and Harvey reflect on each other while laying side to side in bed. POVs.


I've never been one to brag about the people I sleep with. But you're not someone I just 'sleep' with. I'm still not gonna brag, but only because I like our intimacy, our privacy, our secrecy. I enjoy being one of the only two people who know about us. There is something naughty about the contrast in our behavior during the day and the one we have when we get home; under that building's roof, we are co-workers and best friends. When we get home, we become the best version of ourselves we can be. _Carefree lovers, _you whispered to me last night before undressing me.

"Lovers?" I asked. "That makes us sounds like a clandestine thing between two engaged people."

But then you touched me like you always do, you caressed my cheek like you always do. "We're anything but clandestine, sweetheart. We can change the word to… soulmates."

I smile because that word is just beautiful. "That sounds perfect."

We've eaten, we've drank our wine. We've talked… and now comes our round. It's a vulgar way of saying it, I admit, but I enjoy dirty talking, honey, and you know it. Every time I call it "our rounds" you chuckle. Rounds, in plural. Because when we start, we usually don't stop for hours, at least during the weekends. Through the week, we do what we can. We usually come home feeling tired, so when we do have a round, it's quick. But when that's the case, we try to find some inspiration about it, because when you're exhausted, it's harder to get turned on. Well, I speak for myself, now that I'm recalling the events of this past week as I watch you sleep. Truth be told, it's not difficult to turn you on, and I make fun of that sometimes.

Well, it's Saturday at 2 am, and you're completely asleep. I'm just laying in here watching you because I'm too stressed to sleep. Normally, the sex we just had would have helped, but the situation it's annihilating my soul, so it's useless to try to distract me, I just can't. But the sex was amazing, babe, as always.

We constantly manage to bring up new things to our sex life; tonight particularly, there was nothing extraordinary, but you made me grab the headboard for support so tight that I wondered what was going on with you. You've always been great, but I wasn't expecting that trailblazing energy considering the week we've both had. After that mind-numbing orgasm, I asked you before you fell asleep; "Are you alright?", "Yes", you replied. Then you touched my cheek, as if you wanted to assure me nothing's wrong. "Why you ask?" Came then.

"I just think about you. You've had a rough week, babe." I try to explain.

"So have you. But didn't that painkiller help?" You whisper, and I know you mean our previous activities.

"You kidding? My heart's still beating like hell."

"Good." you smile as your eyes flutter progressively.

…. … … … … …..

If you only knew how much time I spent dreaming about this. Maybe you have too, but I can only speak for myself now. The daydreaming, the lapsus while seating at the office… those nights when I couldn't seem to fall asleep. Some days, I just craved _you;_ laying next to me in my bed, smiling softly, stroking my cheek with your smooth fingertips. A whisper telling me you love me and that you don't want to leave our bed; your leg intertwining between mine and your breath on my mouth.

Some days, every possible fantasy in my mind would pop up at any moment of the day, and I just couldn't keep track of what I was doing. And I mean every possible thing; sometimes I would feel guilty about hearing imaginary moans in my head, about picturing your thighs over my shoulders, my tongue moistening your flesh. I would pull off of that thought myself because I felt guilty of desiring you; my best friend. When actually, there was nothing to be ashamed of, but I still felt bad for not being able of letting that desire go, and I would get into a spiral. Then you would come into my office, and whatever it is that you wore, my mind would go there, because my guts were telling me I wanted you. But my head told me it was wrong, and that I should forget it and put it aside like it never existed. Repression and frustration; same things you felt too, apparently, as you've told me. I stared at your breasts, I stared at your mouth, and my guts screamed to allow the existence of that growing fantasy. I pictured your hands pulling my hair while I slid my tongue between your legs; and my fingers pushing inside of you while you squirm and tell me not to stop. All of that without even having you near. But now I do, and I thank God that I finally had the balls to come in, because I don't have to imagine it anymore.


End file.
